#ravah

This time, however, something felt different, and as she tried to dig herself out of the trap she was in, she heard a roar in the distance. Fear spiked in her chest, but before she could prepare herself for anything, another roar blew the wood trapping her away, and she was suddenly exposed, the fire gone.

Instead, she was sitting in the middle of a desert, the wailing silenced, sand stirring around her feet. When she turned her head, Asra was running towards her, and a creature she knew in her heart that she knew, ran alongside him.

“Allie!” Asra fell to his knees in the sand next to her, cupping her face in his hands. “— brought me here, he said you were having a nightmare.”

Though the name he said didn’t stay in Alec’s mind, she knew he was talking about the creature, who paced around both of them, hackles raised as it looked beyond them. Bright orange fur bristled, and on instinct, Alec reached out, and stroked between the creature’s big, fluffy ears. It stopped pacing, looking at her with warm brown eyes, nuzzling its head further into her hand.

“I always have nightmares,” she said, not looking at Asra. “Especially when you’re gone.” She didn’t mean for it to come out as mean as it did, but it was the truth.

His hands fell from her face, and she heard the hurt in his voice. “I thought they had stopped.”

“They aren’t every day, like they used to be.” She kept petting the creature, and eventually it laid its head in her lap, huffing contentedly. “But they never stopped.”

They fell into silence, the sand blowing around them. Alec had been having nightmares for the past three years. At first, they were every day, to the point where she would refuse to go to sleep, forcing herself awake for days a time. Eventually, they stopped being as frequent, but whenever her head hurt a lot during the day, Alec knew that meant she would have another nightmare when she slept, though she was almost never able to remember them when she woke up.

When it seemed like the creature was asleep in her lap, Alec looked up at Asra. He was watching her, a distant look in his eyes.

“Asra, where are we?”

He shrugged. “This is your dream. We’re somewhere in your memories.” Glancing around them, he paused. “Well, actually, this might be a merged place of both our memories.”

“Both our memories?”

With a nod, he pointed behind her. “Look.”

She did and saw a hut on the horizon. It was too far for her to see many details, but there was a fence to the side of it, and she could hear animals calling. Looking at it, she felt a deep, deep sorrow, but heard the sound of people laughing, and laughed along with them despite herself.

“What is that—” Facing Asra again, she stopped when she saw another hut behind him. This one was bigger than the first, the front of it almost completely covered in plants. The creature that had been in her lap was standing in front of the hut, waving its orange tail. Behind the hut was a small oasis, palm trees bending in the wind. From this hut, music played, a song she knew in her heart, the lyrics leaving her tongue without a thought. Tears sprung to her eyes, and a horribly homesick feeling washed over her.

Standing, she started to walk towards the hut, but it shimmered, like a mirage, and she paused. When she turned again, there was yet another hut, the smallest of the three, and Asra stood in front of it.

“This is mine.” He was a long way in the distance, yet his voice still sounded like it was next to her. “My part of the memory. The others are yours.”

“As.” Alec’s cheeks were wet, and she wrapped her arms around herself, storm clouds gathering above her head. “Where are we?”

“Far from home.”

Her voice wavered. “Where is home?”

“You’re home, Allie. To me, you are home.”

A sob broke from Alec’s chest and thunder rumbled. “Where is my home? Where are you? Where is my family?” As rain started to fall around her, mixing with her tears, she felt her feet leave the sand, her body rising into the air. “Why did you all leave me alone?” Her voice rose, echoing across the desert around her, stirring up enough sand to erase all three huts, and Asra, from her sight.

Something bumped into her leg, and she glanced down to see the creature looking up at her. It put its paw on her foot, and slowly, she floated back to the ground, holding its gaze. When she was seated again, it pressed its forehead to hers, and she closed her eyes, hearing its voice in her head.

I know you are frustrated. Soon, there will be a crossroads.

“How soon? Where will they go?”

It depends on which one you take.

“Which one should I take?”

A pause. I can’t tell you that, cub.

“Ravah,” she whispered, the name leaving her lips before she could think it, as her hands dug into soft fur. “I’m scared.”

She felt a sense of calm wash over her, the darkness behind her eyes deepening.

I know. But you’ll be okay. We are all waiting for you.

Who is “we,” she wanted to ask, but she was slipping into a deep sleep faster than she could control.

Sleep, the voice, Ravah, said, and Alec did.

When she woke up, the sun just beginning to rise, she remembered none of her dream, thankful that at least her head wasn’t hurting. She knew from the dried tears on her cheeks that she had been in another nightmare, but as long as she didn’t remember it, that was fine with her.

***

Wrapping her pink dupatta around her head, Alec stuck as close to the shadows as she could while she traveled to the marketplace. The scent of myrrh was still following her from when she left the shop, and though it was normally an earthy, comforting smell, it had her on edge. Her head felt a bit loose, like it normally did whenever she had a lapse in memory, and it had frightened her enough to double-back to the shop, afraid she had forgotten to lock it.

She was already nauseous over the thought of traversing the marketplace to meet up with the escort the Countess would be sending; she didn’t need the added anxiety on her shoulders of the thought that someone else could break into the shop while she was gone.

The sun was still rising steadily when she reached the marketplace, and aside from the vendors, it was almost empty. Thankful that the marketplace was still fairly quiet, she ducked into Selasi’s bakery, sighing blissfully when the myrrh in her nose was replaced with the scent of baked goods. She smelled pumpkin, cinnamon, and nutmeg, and though her nerves were jittery from being in the marketplace at all, the smell and warmth of the bakery gave her some comfort.

“Alec?” Selasi walked over to her, glancing around them as he wiped his hands on his apron. “You came by yourself this morning?”

“Um, yeah, I did. Asra’s…” She paused, and Selasi gave her a soft smile.

“On another one of his mysterious adventures?”

She nodded, hand falling to her side to fiddle with the golden tassels that hung around her hip. “Yeah.”

Selasi nodded in response, a thoughtful hum on his lips. Aside from Asra, Selasi was the only person in the city that Alec could stand to spend time with. She assumed it had something to do with the smell of his food, in the past three years, nothing made her feel more at home and comfortable than the smell of the bakery, or the taste of his pumpkin bread.

Often, Asra would leave Alec in the bakery while he went around the rest of the marketplace, and she would be content to watch the baker as he worked. He even let her help every once in a while, and one time, when Asra was gone, Selasi had let it slip that he knew Alec, before the accident.

When she froze in her spot, fearing a backlash of some sort, he had just continued on, telling her about her own pumpkin bread recipe, and how distinct the two of them were. Distinct, but equally delicious, he claimed.

“If you ever ran your own bakery, I’d be in trouble,” he said, and winked at her, and she smiled—for once, her head not hurting over a memory being given back to her.

Selasi’s hand on hers brought her back to the present, and she glanced down to see a cup filled with hot chocolate. As she gave him a small smile of thanks, he put his hands on his hips, raising a dark eyebrow. “Now, what mysterious adventure could you be on that would bring you to the marketplace on your own, hm?”

Right. The Palace. Alec took a careful sip of her drink, watching steam rise from the cup. “I… Well, when the Countess herself shows up at your door inviting you to the palace, you can’t exactly say no.” She tried to laugh, but it came out shakier than she meant it to, mouth settling into a frown.

“She did?” Selasi whistled, walking back towards the oven. “I guess that would explain the rumors that have been traveling around the vendors this morning.”

“Rumors?”

“Well, for one, a carriage from the palace was seen late last night leaving Center City, and this morning, the Countess’s head servant, Portia, has been about the marketplace. Are you supposed to be meeting anyone?”

Taking another sip, Alec nodded. “The Countess said she would send an escort to meet me; help me get to the palace.”

“I’d bet that would be Portia.” Opening the oven, Selasi pulled out a few loaves of pumpkin bread, and set one aside, handing it to Alec. “Here. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet.”

Cheeks warm, Alec took the bread, breaking off a piece. “Not yet. How did you know?”

“I just had a feeling you would be stopping by, and when you’re all twisted up with nerves, you tend not to eat—you and Asra both, to be fair.” He laughed, shaking his head. “You two would always show up halfway through the day with rumbling stomachs and wide eyes.”

Alec paused at that, a small twinge of pain going through her head. He was referring to the before, when she was someone else. It reminded her that she really didn’t know just how long she had been friends with Asra. He would never give her a time, just that he had known her before the accident. That knowledge made her sad, and she focused on her bread again, trying to bury her thoughts before they dug deeper into her memories and only hurt her more.

If Selasi noticed her wince, he didn’t comment on it, only steering the conversation elsewhere, and Alec was grateful for it.

All too soon, she finished the bread and hot chocolate, and as she slid a few coins into the pocket of Selasi’s apron—it was a bit of a game they played, slipping money back and forth so the other wouldn’t notice—he pointed out the bakery window.

“There she is! That’s Portia, just across the way.”

Alec’s heart leapt into her throat as she turned to look, and through the steady current of people passing by, she saw a head of bright red hair. Portia, she assumed, was talking to some of the vendors across the street. Before she could talk herself out of it, Selasi pushed her to the door, and she was out in the marketplace again.

Swallowing hard, Alec pulled her dupatta even tighter around her face, and dug her fingers into her skirt, stepping into the flow of people, carefully making her way over to Portia. The shorter woman was balancing a basket of pomegranates on her hip as Alec approached, and spoke to herself, counting errands off on her fingers.

“Um—” Alec started, but it didn’t seem like she heard her. “Excuse me—”

Still mumbling to herself, Portia took a step back, not seeing Alec, and bumped into her, the pomegranates spilling into the street.

“Oh, perfect,” Portia groaned, sinking to the ground. “As if I wasn’t already late.”

Biting her lip, Alec crouched down next to her, working quickly to grab the runaway fruits before they were all trampled or lost. When she grabbed the last one and turned back to Portia to hand it to her, she was surprised to see her already staring at Alec, a warm smile on her face, blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. I bumped into you, after all.”

Alec shrugged, feeling a warmth spread across her cheeks. “I was trying to get your attention, and I guess, in a roundabout, inconvenient way, it worked.”

“Ooh, you were trying to get my attention, huh?” Portia’s smile spread into a grin, and she stood, holding her hand out to Alec. “Well, you definitely have it now, honey. How can I help you?”

Taking her hand, Alec noticed how strong her grip was, the callouses on her hands. For the Countess’s favorite servant, she seemed used to hard work, something Alec admired. When she finally tore her gaze from Portia’s hand, she cleared her throat.

“You… you are Portia, aren’t you?”

Portia nodded. “Yep!”

“Selasi pointed you out, I, uh, I think I’m supposed to meet you. To head to —”

“Ah!” Portia’s surprised yell cut her off. “You’re Alec, right?”

“Y-yes—”

“Wow, you really are just like Miri described.” Portia grinned, reaching out to tap the beauty mark on Alec’s chin lightly. “Down to the details.”

Alec was sure her face was bright red, but she just nodded. “S-so, the palace, the Countess—”

Adjusting the basket on her hip again, Portia turned. “Come on, I know the fastest way to the palace.”

***

Maybe three-years-ago-Alec would have thought differently, but today-Alec was sure she had never climbed more stairs in her life.

She wasn’t by any means weak, she could still lift Asra over her head with little effort, but the repetition of climbing stairs was starting to take its toll on her, her body crying with every step she took. Portia took pity on her, letting her rest a few times on their ascent, but she never seemed to lose energy.

As the sky began to darken, they reached the top of the stairs, the Palace looming in front of them.

Before they had even reached the gates, Alec’s head began to ache, and she stumbled back, tipping dangerously close to the stairs.

“Whoa!” Portia grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. “Are you alright?”

Alec pressed her hand to her forehead, gritting her teeth. “I’m… I think I’m just dehydrated, I…”

With a shaking breath, she held her hand out, and focused hard on pulling water from the air into her palm. Bringing it to her mouth to drink, she closed her eyes for a moment. The headache eased, but only slightly. It was enough for her to right herself again, and she turned to apologize to Portia, but her blue eyes were wide, staring at Alec as if she had just transformed into something mystical.

“Wow!”

“Um.” Alec tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, that was amazing!” Portia laughed. “You know, Alec, I’m glad you’re here.”

“R-really?”

They continued to walk towards the Palace gates, and Portia nodded. “The Countess needs good help, and well, you definitely seem like good help.”

Gods, I hope so, Alec thought, but she just smiled at Portia. “Thank you. And thank you for leading me here in the first place. I don’t know if I could have made it by myself.”

“Oh, you would have been fine!” Portia glanced behind them. “I know those stairs can be pretty tough, but you’re pretty tough yourself.” She gave Alec a wink, and Alec felt her cheeks warm again.

She hadn’t meant the stairs, really. Alec was sure that if she had been made to go to the Palace alone, she just would not have gone, the sheer volume of the crowds of people milling about enough to spark her anxiety. It would have only taken a rogue glance, or a whisper from one passerby, to convince Alec that she would be better holed up in her shop, like she always was.

Before she could think of anything to say in reply, Portia was introducing her to the two guards at the gate, Ludovico and Bludmila, and they were opening the gates for her and Portia.

When she died, he had been in Nopal with Asra, watching them as Alec had asked him to do. At first, Asra had been angry that he followed them to Nopal, angrier still with Alec over whatever argument they had finished when he left, but they quickly settled into having him accompany them, and their familiar, Faust.

He had felt when she passed, felt it ripple through his very soul as her last cry echoed across the desert. Though he never normally entered Asra’s hut, much preferring to sleep outside, he had all but tore Asra from the bed, racing them both back to Vesuvia. He had even entered the city, riding in the boat as the magician rowed to that horrid, stinking island, where they both found nothing but Alec’s bones to cradle.

Ravah didn’t cry. He couldn’t, for one, not in the way humans could. But his heart could break, and it did when she was gone.

And now, she was back, and his heart ached.

He paced the limits of the city, furious with himself for not being able to just go in and see her, just do it—it’s not like it would be hard to find her, he could trace her across the world. It was just the city. And he hated cities.

The fur on the back of his neck stood up as he heard a familiar flapping, and he bit back a growl as Fiasharya landed on the ground next to him.

You need to go see her.

I know.

Fish shook her head, red eyes staring unblinkingly at him. Something is wrong. My baby is upset, the rest of them are upset, and not even Missy knows what’s wrong. She doesn’t know any of them.

Not even Missy knew what was wrong? What do you mean?

Alec doesn’t remember any of them.

***

Ravah waited until the moon was at its highest before finally making his way through the city. Selfishly, he was glad that so many had fled the plague, if the city was at its busiest, he never would be able to make it to Alec on his own.

It was harder to find her than he expected, what with the overwhelming smell of death and cloud of ash that settled over the city, but eventually he made it, just as the sky started to shift from inky blackness to blue.

He stepped to the front door, and before he could attempt to figure out how to open it, it swung open, and the young magician, Asra, was standing in the doorway.

“Fish said you would be coming.” They stood aside, and he walked in, trying to fight back the anxiety he felt at being inside, feeling trapped. It helped that the shop smelled like Alec, as well as the rest of the band, at least.

The shop was quiet, everyone else most likely asleep, and Asra led Ravah up some stairs, down a short hallway, to what he could only assume was Alec’s room by the smell.

“She’s barely woken up since I brought her back,” Asra whispered as they opened her door, and Ravah thought they said it more to themself than him. He didn’t even know what that meant, they had brought her back. Back from where?

Shaking his head, he stepped past them. It didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that Alec was alive, and she was sleeping on her bed as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t been dead for a year, the longest, hardest year of his life.

He curled up next to her on the bed almost immediately, lying his head on her chest to feel her breathe under him. Asra watched him from the doorway, and as Ravah lay in silence, he noticed the slow, soft beating of her heart, unfamiliar to him. It was closer to the magician’s heart, and that didn’t make any sense to him.

Closing his eyes, he decided that now was not the time to worry about it, he could worry again in the morning. For now, all he wanted was to sleep by her side again.

And he did, slipping into sleep more easily than he had in a very long time.

He hadn’t even meant to walk into her dreams, it just happened.

The darkness around him faded into afternoon sun, and his paws landed on soft sand, a light whistle of wind ruffling his fur as he walked. In the distance, a small house sat in the middle of seemingly nowhere, plainly colored, but it was familiar.

It was Alec’s parent’s house, and this was her magical gate.

He had often visited her gate with her when she was younger, and they used to train with her magic to make sure it wouldn’t affect anyone else. As much as he insisted it would be more beneficial to her if she practiced on real people, she refused.

Shaking his head, he kept padding towards the house. That wasn’t a frustration to focus on now; it wasn’t like that magic could have kept her from dying.

A song floated on the wind towards him, and he saw that he wasn’t completely alone in Alec’s gate, there was a child sitting on the steps of the house, their head bowed, long dark hair curled by their feet. They tapped their feet to the beat of the song they sang, anklets peeking out from the bottom of their skirt.

As he approached the house, the child stirred, and stared at him curiously. He would know those blue eyes anywhere, and as he got closer, could see the few marks inked on her face that only confirmed what he had thought—it was Alec, though much younger than he had ever known her.

She smiled, and looked over her shoulder, calling inside the house. “Apa, Ama! Come see what’s outside!”

When no one answered, her smile faltered, and she rose to her feet, disappearing inside. Ravah followed, though the inside of the house was nothing but a long hallway with hundreds of doors. He had been here before too, dozens of times, but it used to be louder. It also used to be brighter. Doors that would have music streaming from them, birds singing, sunlight peeking through the cracks, were now still and dark.

“Ama? Apa?”

He caught up to Alec, almost the same height as her as she walked along the hallway. She looked around them, voice pitching with concern, taking in the silence of the doors.

“Where are you?”

Did she not remember?

They’re gone, cub.

“No, they were just here!” She reached out and grabbed the handle of one of the doors, twisting it in her grip, but the door didn’t open. “They can’t be gone, I—”

She took off running down the hallway, trying to open doors along her way, her bare feet leaving footprints that glowed faintly on the ground behind her. Her anklets chimed as she ran, discordant with her worried cries. Ravah had no choice but to follow, watching tears drip from her eyes and land on the ground, illuminating where they fell.

They came to a stop in front of a door Ravah recognized only now as the shop’s door. Alec reached out and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Why won’t they open?” She turned to face him, round cheeks shining. “They’re s-supposed to, aren’t they?”

Yes.

“Why can’t I get in?”

I don’t know.

Her face scrunched up, and she fell to the ground with a sob, leaning against the door and burying her face in her knees as her shoulders shook. Ravah padded over to her, resting his head against her legs. After a moment, her voice, small and tired, spoke again.

“What’s wrong with me?”

What do you mean?

“I don’t… I don’t feel right. My head hurts all the time, and I hear voices, voices I feel like I should know but I don’t… I can’t remember anything.” She peeked out through her hair at him, fresh tears falling. “I’m supposed to know you, too, right? But I don’t.”

He nudged under her arm until she let his head poke through, and he licked her nose. She giggled, even if it was quiet, it was a better sound than her sobs had been.

It’s okay. I know you.

She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Your fur is very soft.”

He huffed. Thank you.

“Can you stay here…” her small hands gripped his fur a little tighter, “just for a little bit?”

Of course.

***

“Ravah?”

Camia’s voice stirred him from sleep, ear twitching. He slowly opened his eyes, meeting hers from where she sat on the side of the bed, the sun softly streaming from behind the curtains. Alec was curled around him, her face buried into his fur, and he could feel a wetness on his back from where her tears had landed.

“Ravah, how is she?”

Scared. She’s confused. And in a lot of pain.

“Pain?” Camia looked stricken, and she reached out to put her hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Because of us?”

He hesitated. It wasn’t quite that simple, but he didn’t know how to explain it. Before he could try, Camia continued.

“I knew it.” She sounded so tired, so resigned, and she stared at Alec with tears in her eyes. “Whatever’s wrong, we’re not helping. She sleeps so much, and when she’s awake, she’s not really here. She’s somewhere else. Asra brings her back, sometimes, but then if I try—”

Alec shifted in her sleep and wrapped herself tighter around Ravah. Camia pulled her hand back, holding it to her chest.

“I don’t know what to do.”

You need to have patience.

A voice that wasn’t Ravah’s spoke in both his and Camia’s minds, and he instinctively stiffened as the magic of something that had lived lifetimes over him entered the room.

Camia’s familiar, a fire salamander named Missy, made their way to the bed, and Camia leaned down to pick them up, setting them on the bed next to Alec.

The salamander looked at Ravah, blinking their round eyes slowly. You decided to come see her after all.

He glanced away, his tail thumping in irritation. Of course. I’m the only one who really understands her.

A sound like a laugh chimed in his mind, and Missy climbed up Alec’s side to sit on her head, closing their eyes for a moment.

“Missy?” Camia’s voice was quiet, and she reached out to her familiar.

Patience. She will not recover overnight.

“I know that, but it’s been weeks. She’s only woken up a handful of times since…”

Missy glowed a cool blue, and magic washed over Alec, relaxing her. She let go of her grip in Ravah’s fur, and he was able to wriggle upright, sitting next to her instead. Though there were still trails of tears on her face, she looked more peaceful, for the moment.

Would you leave us, Marie?

Camia sighed, shoulders slumping, but she nodded. Pressing a quick kiss to Alec’s forehead, she stood, and headed to the door. “Please let me know if she wakes up.”

Missy hummed in agreement, and then the door was shut. They turned their eyes back onto Ravah, feeling immensely old and infinitely more knowledgeable than he was. It pissed him off, but he respected them too much to say anything.

You visited her gate in her dreams, they said, matter-of-factly.

He still nodded. It was… different. But it was still her gate.

That’s good.

Good? How? She couldn’t go through any of her doors.

Could she still do magic?

He thought of how her tears had glowed down the dark hallway. Something. I wasn’t there long enough.

Something is better than nothing. The fact that she can reach her gate at all is a good thing. Missy crawled down Alec’s arm, looking up at her sleeping face. She couldn’t even do that when she first woke up.

What… He trailed off, studying Alec’s face. What happened to her?

Something dangerous. Something that could have gone much worse, if the young Asra were not so lucky.

Asra?

Missy turned to face the door. Come here, child.

Faust, Asra’s familiar, crept under the door, though she kept her distance from Ravah, curling up on the pillow by Alec’s head.

Tell Ravah what you told me.

The snake hesitated, turning her head between Missy and Ravah before nodding. She explained that there had been a ritual of some kind for the now-late Count Lucio, but it had gone wrong because Asra had tried to sabotage it. And he had sabotaged it for Alec, and he had been successful, but only just in bringing her back to life. The details of the ritual, and the price Asra had paid, and what had gone wrong… she didn’t know. She explained that Asra didn’t even remember most of the ritual, or what he had done. The memories were gone.

You felt her heart, I’m sure, Missy said, when Faust had finished.

Her heart… it’s different.

They nodded. That’s Asra’s heart. Whether this was the full price or not, I do not know, but he gave half his heart to bring her back.

Ravah couldn’t even try to wrap his head around that, so he didn’t. What does that mean?

It means she responds better to him than the rest of her family, or even you. Those two are intertwined now. It also means she will recover, she will get better as long as he is here, for now, but the rest of us…

He looked at Alec’s face, still sleeping, and didn’t need Missy to finish to know what they meant. The rest of them were not helping.

With that knowledge in his mind, Ravah stayed at the shop, studying her and the rest of the band.

Over the next handful of months, she slowly started to wake up more often, and stay awake longer, but she wouldn’t interact with the rest of them. Or couldn’t, Ravah wasn’t sure.

The shop thrummed with tension most days, and it felt like there was not an afternoon that there wasn’t some sort of argument between the other humans about what they should do. Ravah did not pay attention to most of the arguments. He didn’t care what they decided on. He only cared about Alec recovering.

And, bit by bit, it seemed like she was. But she would step back just as suddenly, with almost no warning.

One night, he found himself in her dreams again.

He saw the house again, and Alec sitting on the steps again, but she was different this time.

She looked more like she had when he met her, adolescent anger coursing through her veins, and she groaned as he approached, falling back to lie flat out on the ground. When he leaned over her, she stuck her tongue out at him.

“You were here last time, too.”

You remember?

“I remember you lecturing me.” She rolled onto her stomach and traced a circle in the sand as her legs kicked behind her. “Something about having a strong mind to—” her voice deepened to mimic his, “—break even the strongest of hearts. But I don’t have a strong mind, I just have an average, scattered mind, and—"

She continued to complain, but Ravah stopped listening. He thought back. She wasn’t referring to the last time he saw her, no, it seemed more like she was remembering one of the times they had trained. Which was an improvement, of sorts. It was a memory.

He interrupted her. You do have a strong mind.

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Alec grumbled, sitting up. She tossed her short ponytail over her shoulder. “You said it’s important for me to know what’s in my mind when I do my magic, or I could end up hurting someone. But I don’t know what’s in my mind. I barely feel like I’m in my own mind anymore.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “My own thoughts feel like they’re someone else’s.”

What kind of thoughts?

“Like…” she sighed, holding her hand out, and they both watched as she pulled water from the air, gathering and spinning it in her palm. “Like I’m not supposed to be here. I feel wrong. And there’s… I mean, even my heart doesn’t feel entirely like mine. But that doesn’t make sense.”

Ravah thought back to Asra, and what Missy had told him. You are supposed to be here. You were brought here for a reason, and you are not wrong for it.

Alec frowned and shook the water off her hand. “How do you know?” She stood, and he felt the air around them shift, her eyes glowing a brighter blue than they had been a moment ago. “How do you know anything about me?”

He knew what she was doing—he had watched her throw enough tantrums when they were both much younger to recognize the frustration in her voice as wind picked up around them, whipping her skirt around her legs. It always had the same root; she felt lost, angry, but more than that, she was scared. She wouldn’t admit to it then, when the strength of her power washed over her, and she wouldn’t admit to it now, but she was terrified. And she only knew how to lash out—she didn’t know how to ask for help.

Back then, he would get frustrated too, for as mature as he liked to act, and for how much Fiasharya teased him about it, he wasn’t very old at all. He had met Alec when he was still a cub, still raw with fury over the way he had been treated from birth, and he knew he didn’t teach her the way she needed him to. But it was different now—he was different now.

Even if this version of Alec was the same, he could help her now, and she needed him.

As the wind lifted her from the ground, her hair coming loose and flowing around her, he sat and looked up at her, humming a song, a lullaby, that she had taught him a long time ago. She had taught it to him a few years after they met, when she startled awake from a nightmare filled with fire and smoke. He didn’t need to see all of her dreams now to know she still had the same nightmares, only much more vivid, if the way she often woke up trying to throw her sheets off in tears meant anything.

As he hummed, her eyes flashed, the intensity of the blue glow hiding even her pupils. “S-stop it.” He didn’t, and saw her face crumble, tears slipping down her cheeks, though the wind continued to howl. “Stop it!”

Reaching up, he took her hand in his mouth gently, pulling her back down, and she let him. It wasn’t until she sat on the ground, slumped over herself, that the wind died, and he laid down with his head in her lap.

A tear landed on his nose, and he sniffed. As she spoke, Alec’s thumb stroked the side of his face. “How did you know that song?”

You taught it to me.

“I don’t…” She sighed. “I don’t even remember how I know that song.”

He glanced up at her. She looked so lost, so small, not unlike the younger version of herself he had seen the last time in her dreams. You said your parents taught it to you. That they would sing you to sleep with it when you were very small. It helped keep away the bad dreams.

“What were they like?”

He, truthfully, didn’t know. Alec had never spoken much about them, it brought her too much pain. But there was one thing he did know about them, that he could see from the way she had cared for herself and her family, the way she had cared for everyone she met. They loved you very much.

***

This time, when he woke up, it was Leon sitting on the bed next to Alec, running their fingers through her hair. They were humming the same song he had in her dreams, and he knew that she had taught it to them as well. When he shifted in his spot, they stopped, but kept twirling her hair between their fingers. “Was it a bad dream?”

He sat up, studying Alec’s face. She seemed more relaxed, sleeping without a furrow in her brows, though she was still sleeping.

Not anymore.

“Good.” They paused, hand stilling. “She still doesn’t remember us?”

No.

“Hm.” Leon hid their emotions well, when they wanted to, but they couldn’t hide the disappointment they felt. “I thought you might be helping her somehow.”

I am. But there’s something in the way.

“Do you… Do you think we should leave?”

Leave?

They sighed, propping their chin in their hand. “She’s not… not getting better, is she. And every time she wakes up, she can’t stand to be around us. Just Asra. And I…” Frowning, they shook their head. “I just don’t think there’s anything more we can do for her right now.”

Ravah didn’t answer them, but they took that as answer enough.

“Jamil wouldn’t hear of it, though,” they grumbled. “He won’t hear of anything, these days. He’s convinced that we need to be here. And it’s not… not like I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to leave her either, but he, he won’t listen.”

Ravah huffed. He will need to, sooner or later.

“Yeah.” Leon stood. ‘Let’s hope sooner over later, huh?”

Soon wasn’t soon enough for Ravah, as every day afterwards seemed to be the same conversation. Camia thought they should leave, and now Leon was starting to think that way as well, but Jamil refused to even entertain the idea. Even as Camia tried to explain, he wouldn’t listen.

She held her head in her hands, sitting on the couch in the back room. “You’re not listening to me, Jamil—”

Jamil was pacing—he was always pacing now, Ravah noticed. “Because you’re not making any sense, I—"

Ravah got up from his spot at the bottom of the shop stairs, padding back up to sit in Alec’s room. She was sitting up, more awake than she had been, but stayed looking out the window as he approached, and didn’t even stir as he placed his head in her lap. He huffed, and her hand fit between his ears, stroking him slowly. It was more on instinct than anything, as she still wasn’t looking at him, but that was enough.

A moment later, Asra entered, eyes red. He walked over to the bed, carrying a bowl of something smelling strongly enough that it caught Alec’s attention, and she pulled her gaze from the window to look at Asra.

He handed her the bowl, a small smile on his face. “Brought you some food; I helped Jamil make it this morning.”

Whatever it was, it smelled heavily of spices and made Ravah put his paw over his nose, glaring at Asra.

The magician laughed lightly, petting Ravah’s back once. “Sorry. It’s a bit strong.”

Alec ate in silence, but she seemed to listen to Asra as he spoke, eyes not as distant as they had been before. A pang of jealousy shot through Ravah, annoyed that she responded to Asra but not to him, but then he reminded himself that it was the furthest thing from intentional and sighed to himself.

Her moment of clarity was not long lived, as the moment Asra stood and left the room, she was distant again. Ravah didn’t understand it, but he knew she didn’t either.

A few months later, right before they all left, he visited her in her dreams again.

She was standing outside of her parent’s house still, but she was older now, older than she had been when they first met. When he made it to her side, she put her hand between his ears, petting him gently.

“Ravah.”

He was surprised to hear her say his name and turned his head up at her. Yes?

She wasn’t looking at him, but out on the horizon, eyes distant. “Will you look after them for me?”

Do you remember them?

“No.” She paused, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I don’t—I’m not sure. Something’s there, but I just, I can’t see it yet. But they’re in pain, aren’t they? Because of me?”

Again, he hesitated. It just wasn’t that simple.

“I know Asra. I may not remember him, but I know him. And I know you, even if when I wake up, I won’t remember you either. But, whenever I try to think about them, there’s just—it’s like a wall in my mind, and I’m not strong enough to break it down. Not yet.”

Alec’s voice caught in her chest, and she knelt down to bury her face in his fur. “I don’t want them to go. I know enough that they’re supposed to be here. And it’s not—“ He felt tears fall on his back and turned his head to nuzzle hers. “It’s not fair that I won’t even remember telling you this when I wake up. But I’m not getting any better.”

She was silent for a moment, then she asked him again.

“Will you look after them?”

I will.

She sighed, wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

***

Jamil, of course, took the longest to convince to leave. But when he finally understood that there was nothing they could do, they left within the week.

Ravah wasn’t even sure what had been the final straw, all he knew was that Alec had an awful relapse, and it had managed to finally strike that chord with Jamil that they all needed to leave, both of them reduced to tears. So, nine months after she had first woken up, Jamil, Camia, and Leon left the shop, Asra, Vesuvia, and Alec.

He followed them into the Catclaw Desert, where they found a hut, smaller than the shop, and made it a home. Though, they still argued.

Now, Jamil argued that they had to do something to help Alec. That they had to find a way to get her memories back, even without her. Camia and Leon didn’t agree. However, after a few months of arguing, it seemed like Jamil had given up.

Ravah was not so easily fooled. He knew just how stubborn Jamil could be. The rest of them thought Alec had gotten her stubbornness from Leon. However, theirs was a selfish stubbornness. Jamil’s—and Alec’s—was almost self-righteous, which was infinitely more infuriating to him.

So, when Fish woke him one morning, feathers ruffled and crying that Jamil had left, Ravah was not surprised.

He had promised Alec he would look after them, and that was what he planned on doing. He walked past Camia, who looked between two directions, sighed, and stepped back into the hut, her head in her hands. There were three sets of footprints in the sand. Hers, which went no more than a few feet from the door. Jamil’s, which headed north, and Ravah could still smell him on the wind, not too far for him to keep up behind. And the last set of prints, presumably Leon’s, went the opposite direction, and abruptly stopped, the smell of their magic radiating from them.

Ravah went north.

As he made his way further from the hut, reaching the last dune that would hide it from his sight, he looked back. He watched clouds start to gather in the distance, the opposite direction from where he was heading, sand whirling in a funnel. In the middle of the funnel, he saw a familiar shape, long hair whipping around with the wind, air crackling with magic, and heard a howl echo over the desert, sharp with pain and anger, so much so that he felt it in his bones.

Ravah faced forward again, and over the top of the next dune, saw the shape of Jamil heading away, oblivious to the hurt he was leaving behind. Or uncaring, and Ravah wasn’t sure which was worse.

Nevertheless, he still followed after him. Leon, Camia, and Fiasharya could all handle themselves. They didn’t need him. Jamil did. As much as Ravah had never particularly cared for him, Alec did—maybe more so than she cared for anyone else, even if the difference between her care for him and the others was slight.